Returning to Your Roots
Written by Fruit Punch
A Pokémon Fanfiction featuring Professor Birch and Norman
February 2016 – Present
Chapter 01: Familiar Feelings
Rating: M
Warnings: NSFW, Masturbation, Scent fetish
When was it that Norman had begun feeling more comfortable in his gym than in his own house? Was it once his son was no longer home, who he was much more attached to than his wife, who was currently living in a state of mutual separation with him where they remained legally married but emotionally and physically unattached? "Staying together for the children", as so many people tended to refer to situations like this, really didn't work as well once your kids left the house, leaving the two people who formerly loved each other feeling empty and alone, even more so when they were actually around one another. Was it once his wife and son relocated to Hoenn two years earlier in order to be reunited with Norman, now that his Pokémon gym in Petalburg City was thriving and he could comfortably support his family, only to see his beautiful wife after so long and feel absolutely nothing inside? Or maybe it had happened before Norman left, and was in fact one of the subconsciously driving reasons to why he excepted the gym leader position at Petalburg's vacant location, far away in another region that he had only been to sparingly over the decades. It had seemed like a risky move at the time, but one that could also pay off tremendously since gym leader positions don't exactly become unoccupied terribly often and not already have one or more successors legally and professionally prepared to take the position ahead of time. And starting off in a new area where he knew almost nobody, while intimidating, meant a clean slate, a new identity and life that he could sculpt to his liking. But maybe he had other underlying reasons for the choice, marital reasons.
Or maybe, most terrifyingly of all, maybe Norman had never actually loved his wife at all. Sure, he had no animosity for the woman, and wished the best for her. She was kind, talented, hardworking, attractive, and incredibly understanding of her eccentric husband's endeavors throughout the years. But there never had seemed to have been…the spark, the magnetism and love in their relationship that other couples always referenced. Norman had met his future wife shortly after college when he was struggling to find steady employment, despite his degree and solid skill set and references. They had become quick friends, and she helped the man get his footings in the world, both socially and in a career and lifestyle-mindset. But was their marriage simply one of convenience? One of two friends, who simply never had a better option waltz into view? All these thoughts and many, many more were sprinting through Norman's head as he sat on the quiet wooden floor of his Petalburg Pokémon Gym this evening, his body hunched over and his arms resting on his knees and his chin planted firmly on his forearm.
Well, it's not like a better option had never presented itself to Norman, romantically speaking. More accurately, his wife was the best candidate that was also single and emotionally and physically invested in Norman at the time of their marriage seventeen years ago, rather than Norman's preferred choice. And while in retrospect Norman knew that it was extremely foolish to be romantically involved with someone while still holding feelings for another, the person Norman pined after the most parted ways with him nearly two decades ago after graduation, and he had hoped it was simply one of those college infatuations led on by constant close quarters, lack of supervision, and nights of debatable choices. Norman had hoped that he would simply grow up, and he would grow out of his foolish college romance and into adulthood. Unfortunately, some things stay with you as you grow, and despite Norman's hopes he had never blossomed into that everlasting fairytale romance with his wife. Sure, he adored his son, and tried to be the best breadwinner and family man that he could be. His memory was filled of holidays, vacations, and general day to day family events that Norman genuinely cherished. He did not necessarily regret marrying his wife, and his son was one of his happiest and proudest achievements of his surprisingly accomplished life. Norman only felt that maybe, now that his son was away and his marriage continuing to be stagnant and comparable to strangers under the same roof, maybe something needed to change.
But Norman was too frightened to do anything about that. Yes, he and his wife had sat down and had abridged and uncomfortable conversations about their dull and unloving marriage, but every time anything resembling a resolution or change had come up, Norman had shirked away from the subject. He didn't dislike his wife, and didn't want to hurt her, so he continued to do nothing, subconsciously knowing that the inaction in itself was also doing irreparable damage. But it was easier to ignore that than actually discuss the unsteady future of their marriage, and over time Norman had found himself spending more and more time at his Pokémon Gym. It was a convenient excuse to stay at his gym, a dangerously easy one. Norman was always what some called an eccentric. He worked tirelessly towards his goals, often in unorthodox means. Pokémon training had always been the man's life, and even in the beginning of his career he spent more time at the gym than away. At the start it was an obvious choice, his wife and son had continued living in Johto, as Norman was unsure how successful his tenure as gym leader would be. In order to send enough money back to Johto for his family to live comfortably and at ease, Norman had only rented out a small building on the outskirts of Petalburg, not too far from the gym. It was small and unassuming, and not very inviting. Norman was also not much of a homemaker without the helping hand of his wife, and left the walls barren, the furniture minimal, and slept on a cheap futon. It was a functional setup, however, as Norman tended to devote all his time and manpower towards the gym and spent minimal time at his home. Doing so he was able to save on electricity, and he accidentally often skipped meals due to overworking himself without rest. Living so cheaply let the vast majority of the money go to his son, and life was good enough. After several years, his gym was flourishing and revenue was through the roof. There was no reason for Norman to continue living so economically, and enough funds had been saved that his family could now move to Johto with him, buying a respectable house in the quaint little town of Littleroot. But when Norman entered his new home, it felt just as small and empty as his barren bachelor pad behind the gym, and no amount of pleasant photos on the wall or sounds of laughter and smells of dinner with his family seemed to lessen that. If anything, it only made Norman feel lonelier because he knew how fortunate he really was, yet that did nothing to aid his heart and that in itself made him feel guilty. And so slowly Norman began to spend more and more time at his gym, until he began spending multiple weeks at a time between short visits home. Yes, the gym was thriving. But his home life was suffering.
Suddenly Norman heard a crash emanate from the adjacent room, followed by frantic shrieking of a familiar Pokémon. The gym leader quickly stood up in the dark room and walked briskly, but not quite urgently, to meet the source of the sound. Walking to the door, his shoeless socked feet skimming the polished wooden floor with only light taps of footsteps. Reaching the door in the unlit room with only the moonlight streaming through the window for light, Norman brushed his hand along the wall, feeling for the door and its handle. Locating and grabbing the doorknob, Norman pulled open the door and bright fluorescent light poured in from the other room, temporarily stinging the man's eyes. Inside the room he found two of his Vigoroth frolicking loudly and rambunctiously. They were harmless, and the sound wasn't from a dispute or accident between them. Simply, the primate Pokémon were so full of energy that they had a habit of unintentionally damaging their surroundings or each other in their play. Norman spied the formerly neatly piled gym supplies now strewn about the floor. Thick rubber mats, weights, large pieces of wood and metal poles, and many miscellaneously packed boxes were now upended and tossed around, their contents littering the floor. One particularly large pile was resting on top of a Slaking, who, unsurprisingly, didn't seem to notice or mind the extra weight. But even though most of the room's residents met with the mess and chaos with either excitement or indifference, in one far corner Norman spotted his Zigzagoon cowering in nervousness. The poor thing never seemed to be fond of its louder and more rambunctious friends, and Norman only hoped that it hadn't gotten hurt by a falling box or something similar. The fit man began jogging into the room and quickly reached the frightened Pokemon, scooping it up in his arms and examining it while cooing softly to calm it down. Lightly caressing its form and probing various limbs, Norman determined the Pokémon was mostly unharmed, with only a small scratch on its front left paw. It would still probably be best to bandage it for the night as a precaution, but for the moment it was fine, and allowed Norman to focus on the bigger problem at hand.
Looking back up from the Zigzagoon now resting safely in his arms, Norman watched his two Vigoroth continue to reack havoc on the room, shrieking loudly.
"Hey!" Norman yelled loudly and firmly. "Stop that right now!"
The two Vigoroth flinched at the call of their trainer, their arms freezing in midair as they held various items and their voices falling silent. It was not an unkind or fearsome yell, but one of a strong disciplinary parent, and the Pokémon instantly knew that they were going to be reprimanded. Their heads quickly turned as their gazes locked onto their master's, the primates' eyes wide and worried. Instantly following Norman's command, their hands promptly released their possessions. The first one's fell to the floor with a loud clattering in the abruptly silent room, while the second one's hands were positioned immediately overhead, and ended up dropping a large box right onto its head. The blow resounded loudly and the Pokémon recoiled as the box rolled off of its white, hairy form, but it continued looking at its master in fear and concern.
Norman chuckled dryly as he shook his head. His Pokémon were not nasty or disobedient, they were simply too energetic and from time to time things like this happened. He had tried to teach them time and time again that there was a certain behavior expected of them, and Norman attempted to allow them to release their excess energy as much as possible with exercise and play, but sometimes this outcome was inevitable. And Norman had to blame himself as well, as he had left them unattended, and arguably hadn't played with them enough today to calm the Pokémon down. Vigoroth merely were incredibly energetic creatures, and Norman knew that and couldn't blame them for being products of their own nature. The fact that they immediately stopped and listened to Norman so instantly and unquestioningly showed that they were good Pokémon. However, he still couldn't have them destroying his gym.
Norman slowly began walking towards his mischievous Pokémon, sighing. One of the two Vigoroth cried out in fear of being reprimanded, but both remained exactly where they stood, looking at each other nervously, and then back at their approaching trainer and father figure. Norman raised his hand to the one who had dropped the box on its head, and it cringed, expecting a strike. But the man simply placed his hand gently on his Pokémon's head, rubbing it comfortingly and examining where the box had hit. It seemed fine at the moment, no immediate redness or swelling. But Norman made a mental note to check it again in the morning just to be sure.
"Are you hurt?" Norman asked gently. The Pokémon opened its eyes and relaxed its body as it looked up at its trainer, realizing that it wasn't being punished. Both Vigoroth calmed down, yet still watched their trainer with complete and undying attention.
"That's good," Norman continued, taking their silence and attention as a response. "I'm sorry that I wasn't around much for you to play with today. I realize that must have made you lonely, and you two were only trying to have fun. But please don't roughhouse so much when I'm not around. I want to be there for you in case you hurt yourselves. I realize it was my fault that I wasn't paying attention to you, though. I'm sorry about that."
Norman smiled and moved over to pet the other Vigoroth with his one free hand, his other still cradling his Zigzagoon. The Vigoroth began nuzzling up against his hand apologetically, and the other moved to examine the Pokémon in Norman's other hand. Norman watched as the Vigoroth that moments ago had been so violent now sniff the smaller Zigzagoon in concern and worry. Seeing the Zigzagoon's scraped paw, the Wild Monkey Pokémon began licking the wound carefully.
Content with his Pokémon, Norman again looked up to examine the destruction of the room. From afar, almost everything seemed to be undamaged, simply thrown around. It would take a bit of time to clean, but as far as he could tell, nothing important would need replacing. That was a relief. Norman had spent the better part of the day sulking, so it really was his own fault that his Pokémon had made the mess. Vigoroth were one of those types of Pokémon that was very high maintenance, and if a trainer didn't understand that and prepare for it then they had no right owning a Pokémon like that. Norman had just been so out of it lately, even at his gym. He really wished there was a way to break the funk he was in. His Pokémon were normally his only respite from the issues that plagued him, he shouldn't be ignoring them. But even they couldn't seem to do too much to help his moods lately. Norman needed a new outlet, but he couldn't figure out what to do.
With a heavy sigh, Norman decided it was time to clean the room and fix the damage caused by his inattention. He could continue to sulk all evening and all night but it wouldn't get the task at hand done any faster. Forward movement was the only way to exist, and as an adult, Norman knew this.
It still didn't make it any easier, though.
Eventually Norman had taken his Zigzagoon into his office and bandaged its paw after applying some antiseptic. It had stung and the Pokémon had winced, but it was obedient and persevered and didn't recoil its paw. Afterwards Norman had given it some much needed TLC as the Zigzagoon snacked on some berries. Before too long it was asleep, and Norman returned it to its bed in the Pokémon's quarters and went to clean up the mess made by his other Pokémon. Returning to the room, he saw that his two Vigoroth had tried as best as they could to organize the chaotic mess they had made. It was a very haphazardly done cleaning, with things placed incorrectly and piled on top of each other in a vague semblance of their original layout. But it was undoubtedly a very honest and genuine attempt by his Pokémon, and Norman laughed loudly upon seeing it. His Pokémon had long since finished their juvenile decluttering and scurried off to bed before being chastised for staying up late, and Norman was alone in the large room, accompanied only by the stacks of items in the room. Smiling warmly and tiredly, Norman began his thorough cleaning where his Pokémon had left off. It took several hours, but the room eventually returned to its former appearance. Norman was a very thorough man, and cleaning was no exception. After fixing and rearranging everything in the room, Norman took out cleaning supplies and polished the wooden floor. He scrubbed furiously as the lemon scented liquid filled his nostrils, the bright fluorescent lights beginning to bounce brightly off the light brown wooden floor, making the surface gleam brightly. The physical labor helped Norman put his thoughts aside and focus on the manual exertion. He quickly became overheated and discarded his sweatshirt, sweat clinging to his thin black shirt underneath as the man worked.
Well after midnight, Norman finally finished his cleaning and stood up, rubbing his forehead to wipe the sweat from his brow and to slick back his wet hair. Looking up at the clock, Norman was surprised at the time that had passed, and quickly gathered up his supplies and his discarded sweatshirt. Putting them away in a neatly stocked cleaning closet, Norman spied a piece of white cloth draped over a chair in the closet. Picking it up, he realized it was a lab coat. It must've been from when Professor Birch had visited him recently. He would have to give it back next time he saw his friend and colleague.
Holding the garment, Norman paused and looked at the item longingly. Slowly he began bringing the coat towards his face. He hesitantly looked around, despite being the only one in the room, before pressing it to his face and inhaled deeply. It smelled like Birch. It smelled of soft laundry detergent, as well as the faint spice of the cologne Birch used. Norman inhaled again, this time even deeper, searching for another scent. Finding it, his brow furrowed in pleasure. It was the smell of Birch's body, the light musk of his muscular frame, which was covered in a delightfully squishy later of fat and hair. Birch was stronger than Norman, but nowhere near as fit when it came to cardio or stamina, and due to his heavier body weight and lab coat, the man perspired more than Norman. While he did bathe and take care of himself, if you got close enough and inhaled strongly enough, you would manage to catch a whiff of the manly scent of Birch beneath the soap and deodorant and cologne. Birch always washed his clothes, but sometimes got lazy. His lab coat, Birch seemed to reason, didn't catch as much sweat as the clothing underneath due to it not having direct contact with most of his body, and as a result Birch usually wore the same lab coat for multiple days. While that made sense in theory, it was not entirely true, as Norman noticed as he continued to breathe against the fabric. Not that Norman minded. As a matter of fact, Norman adored the smell. And it wasn't like you would be able to notice the smell simply by being around Professor Birch. It was just faint enough that it went unnoticed unless you pressed your face against it and were intentionally looking for it. Like Norman was now. It was his secret, the smell nobody but Norman knew about. It was his and his alone to enjoy, and Norman was about to enjoy it to its full extent.
Closing the closet door, Norman walked over to the wall and sat down on a nearby gym mat, his back resting against the wall. He brought Birch's coat back to his face and again huffed hard, savoring the tang of the musk in his nose and throat. As he held the coat to his face with one hand, his other quickly dived beneath his waistband, roughly grabbing his quickly hardening penis and pulling on it. His hips bucked into his hand as it moved up and down along the shaft. Moving the fabric against his face, Norman rearranged it so his nose sat against the armpit of the lab coat, where the scent of Birch was the strongest, and put part of it in his mouth, sucking on the used clothing while continuing to pant into the fabric. Professor Birch had only visited yesterday, so the scent was still fresh, and as Norman sucked on the cloth his saliva began tasting salty and sour like the armpit of the lab coat. Savoring the flavor, Norman let it sit in his mouth before swallowing it. Beginning to grope at his dick more violently, he paused to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants and underwear down to his knees. Norman shivered as his bare bottom hit the cool gym floor, which contrasted his increasing body temperature. His dick free, Norman masturbated more forcefully than before, gripping the coattails of the fabric around his penis while he switched armpits to utilize the other one. It was very rough rubbing against his dick, but precum slicked his manhood and lessened the coarseness of the fabric. But Norman liked it rough anyway, so the material didn't bother him. If anything, he relished it, it reminded him he was there, he was alive, and that these feelings he was having at this moment were real. The pure animalistic grunts and thrusts, the less composed side of him that he wouldn't dare show most people, Norman focused on that part of him as his hips bucked and his head was filled with the smell of Birch.
Birch, his close friend. They had met in college and instantly become close. Very close. Upon graduation, they had parted ways, but Norman had never lost the feelings he had for him. But even though they had infrequent contact, Norman assumed they would drift apart and needed someone to help him in life, so he married his wife. But no matter how hard he tried, she was always second best in his heart for Birch. Professor Birch. Norman had found Birch when he had moved to Hoenn five years earlier to begin his career as a gym leader in Petalburg City. The two friends hadn't talked in a while, but Norman had thought he remembered hearing that Birch had gotten married. However what he found was Birch living in Littleroot, mere miles from Petalburg, having become one of the most renowned Pokémon professors in the region. He lived alone with his daughter, who was roughly the same age as Norman's son. Although he wasn't quite as fit as he was in college, Birch was still incredibly attractive, even more so now that he was a rugged man in his late thirties, stubble still covering his sincere wide grin, and his now plumper body covered in delicious thick brown hair which could be seen sticking out from the collar of his t-shirt, as well as on his exposed forearms and on his legs that poked out from his shorty. His frame was always wide due to his muscles, which were still thick underneath his newer layer of fat, with his broad shoulders now complimenting his thicker gut. Norman had run up and hugged the man, and it felt so good being held in those strong arms, pressed up against the soft squish of his stomach. Seeing Birch in person after all of those years flooded Norman with all the feelings he had never quite been able to forget while masquerading as a normal heterosexual member of society. And over the years they had continued to reconnect and rekindle their friendship, which only solidified Norman's feelings more. He loved Birch, and was also incredibly attracted to him.
Norman closed his eyes and thought of Birch's strong, calloused hands, which were bigger than his and had such a firm, yet gentle grip. He imagined those hands holding him tightly, and gliding up and down his thinner frame. He saw his friend's face as he leaned over Norman, his mouth close, his warm breath hitting Norman against the face as Birch's wide, powerful legs straddled the smaller man's legs. His stomach laid heavily on Norman's torso, the weight pressing down reassuringly and lovingly. God, Norman wanted to be held down by Birch, be kept down and stay there forever, breathing in the smell of the man he loved and nothing else. Norman wanted to kiss those smiling lips of his, to connect their mouths together and maybe be able to find inside there what it is that lets Birch smile so genuinely and constantly and take some for himself.
Norman's brow furrowed as he got closer to climax, his hand pumping vigorously, moving his whole pelvis into it. His heavy balls slapped against the ground as he thrust, his asshole clenching and unclenching as he readied himself for orgasm. God, Norman wanted Birch so bad. He wanted the real thing, not this fantasy in his head. But for now he made do with the musky lab coat in his hand, inhaling hard enough to make noise almost akin to wheezing. He wanted all of Birch, his heavy stomach and his big hands, his large feet and his thick dick. Norman had seen it a few times in college, and he remembered it now, imagining it as hard as he was now. Seeing white, Norman took one last strong whiff and bit down on the fabric in his mouth as seed spilled out into the cloth he pressed against his dick. His hand continued pumping as he orgasmed, and the motion continued for a moment even afterwards, milking every bit of semen he had and bathing in the afterglow. Norman's entire body tensed as he released, and then he slumped over in fatigue after, panting heavily into the armpit of the coat that still rested against his face, savoring a few last parting breaths.
Norman stayed there on the floor for a while, his body resting as his mind lingered in thoughts of Birch. Birch, his best friend. His coworker, as Birch's research also helped assist the Hoenn Pokémon League at times. His confidant, to whom Norman could be himself and speak his heart. Mostly. And also his crush for the better part of twenty years. With his kind, deep voice that was always there to reassure Norman and support him, and made Norman feel whole. With the large way he held himself, his shoulders back and his stomach out, his feet pointed outward and knees slightly buckled. He was so cute as he would ramble on about things he found interesting, and then got nervous as he worried he was boring Norman. With his oblivious nature and big heart that helped everyone and everything he passed, even if they didn't want the help. Birch would get so confused and still have such a look of determination and conviction as Norman would talk about his issues, Norman couldn't help but smile. He loved Birch. He loved him so much, and he always had, no matter how long he tried to fight it. He wished his wife could've filled that hole that Birch left years ago, but she never was able to. That was no fault of her own, the woman was an incredible one, and Norman loved her too. Just…not the way he loved Birch. Not the way that society told Norman he was supposed to love her. Norman knew he couldn't keep doing this, this running and hiding from her, sulking in his gym and avoiding the woman who only wanted the best for him. More importantly, Norman knew he couldn't keep pretending to love her while his mind was so preoccupied with someone else. It wasn't right for him to do so, she deserved better than that.
Examining the aftermath of his orgasm, Norman wiped his dick off on the coat, removing the remaining semen that hadn't stuck to Birch's lab coat. Norman would have to wash this before returning it to Professor Birch now. Luckily he had a washing machine in the small house behind the gym. Norman got excited thinking of having an excuse to see Birch again. Sure, they could talk anytime, they were friends. But Birch had been so busy lately. Maybe he could even talk to Birch about the situation with his wife. Well…if he left out a few parts, maybe. Mostly ignoring the activities Norman had with his lab coat.
Blushing, Norman looked at the impressively large stain he made on the garment. Pausing, he debated taking his time and making another similar stain before washing it, while the clothes still smelled like his friend.
What did he have to lose? That he still had to give, that is.
End of Chapter 01: Familiar Feelings
A/N: Time for another story! I love juggling multiple works, it lets me choose whatever I'm in the mood for and focus on that. That being said, I usually tend to pick favorites so...we'll see.
I'm actually thoroughly surprised that I can't find a single Littlerootshipping title anywhere else. Is...is it really that uncommon? Am I using the wrong ship tag? Norman/Professor Birch IS called that, right? Oh well, I guess I'll be the one to start the trend!
I actually don't personally care for masturbation stories, so I'm not sure how I did here. I do love me some scent fetish though. Hope that didn't creep people out. And if it did, well I'm sorry but hey, that's why I archive the tags for each chapter at the beginning.
It's moderately frustrating trying to write about a character who doesn't have a canon first name. Both Birch and Norman's wife don't have canon names. While I'm fine with not naming the wife based off of the way I'm taking this story, I would like to find a name for Birch. I have a very tentative one, but I'm open to suggestions!